


Torksmith At Its Fucking Finest

by peter_torks_legs



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Mystery Character(s), Pining, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 17:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18154850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peter_torks_legs/pseuds/peter_torks_legs
Summary: When Mike reveals that Phyllis is kicking him out of the house for reasons that he refuses to say, Peter offers to let him move in. All is running smoothly, until Mike starts hooking up with a mystery girl (?) and Peter becomes insanely jealous.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is weird for me because I usually just write PWP (because it's fun), but I decided to give a less smutty storyline a try. Don't worry, there's still smut. Just not as much as usual. And in case you're wondering, no, I couldn't think of a better title.

“Phyllis kicked me out.”

“…oh.” Peter twirled the phone cord around his finger as he leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “Any particular reason why?”

There was a bit of reluctance before Mike said, “Not important right now.” Then, a sigh. “Look, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately but I really need a place to stay. And you’ve got that big ol' house to yourself so I figured you wouldn’t mind me stayin' with you for a while.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, not entirely sure how to respond. Mike’s reasoning was pretty solid, but it just seemed strange that he was coming to Peter of all people. “How long would you be staying for?”

“Just as long as it takes me to get straightened out. Gotta buy a new house or somethin', I dunno.”

“Oh, alright.” But hadn’t Mike bought his and Phyllis’s house in the first place? Why was he getting kicked out instead of Phyllis leaving? Peter was beyond curious, but he figured it wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone. “Well, you can stay in one of the spare rooms, I guess. I’ve got plenty of room.”

“Really? Gee, that’s great man! I’ll be right over, I already got my stuff packed!” He didn’t give Peter a chance to speak before hanging up.

Well, Peter was going to have someone else living in his house now, he supposed. It wasn’t that he minded, but sometimes he and Mike didn’t get along too well and he feared that being in the same house as him for too long would only make things worse. At least at the moment they could still have a functioning friendship, but that might have been put at risk just now with Peter letting Mike stay with him. Still, he supposed he would just have to wait and see.

It didn’t take long until the doorbell rang, and Peter hurried to answer it. Sure enough, there stood Mike with two suitcases in his hands, a smile on his face. How was he smiling when he had just been kicked out of his own home?

“Hiya, Pete,” he greeted, and that was when Peter realized the smile was fake. His voice lacked the enthusiasm that his expression held. “Listen, thanks for lettin' me stay. I know this was all kinda sudden.”

“It’s no problem, man,” Peter insisted, stepping aside as a silent invitation inside. Mike accepted, stepping into the house and looking around as if it was his first time seeing it, which, it wasn’t at all. He’d been here numerous times for parties and songwriting sessions, both of which were spent smoking copious amounts of pot. Peter knew, however, that this was now Mike’s home, at least for now, so he must have been getting used to the idea of this being more than just a place to hang out and get high.

“Well, uh…let me help you take your stuff upstairs,” Peter said, taking one of Mike’s bags and proceeding to do exactly as he had said he would. He hoped Mike would adjust well to staying here.

~*~

Mike had luckily settled in rather easily – at least to Peter’s knowledge – and the fact that they were now living under the same roof allowed for them to write together a lot more and share songs with each other. Surprisingly, they weren’t getting under each other’s skin as much as Peter had thought they would, which was more than he could have asked for. It had been about a week now since Mike had moved in, and with everything running smoothly, Peter felt pretty good about things. 

One night, after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, Peter decided he wasn’t about to get to sleep anytime soon. Usually he slept like a baby throughout the entire night and well into the next morning, but tonight just wasn’t his lucky night, he supposed. When his stomach growled, he realized he could have gone for a midnight snack, and stood up from bed. He was about the open his door and walk right out, but he realized he was still naked and decided to quickly slip on some pajama bottoms. He didn’t expect to see Mike at this hour, but figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once he was sufficiently covered, he headed downstairs to retrieve a quick snack. However, he quickly realized he wasn't the only one awake when he saw a figure sitting at the kitchen table. It was Mike, looking to the side and out the large sliding glass door nearby with a mug situated between his hands on the table.

“Michael?”

He jumped slightly upon hearing his name, but relaxed when he looked up to see Peter standing before him. 

“Hey,” he replied, a friendly smile on his face. “Care to join me?”

Shrugging, Peter nodded. “Sure.” He sat down in the chair adjacent to Mike’s, resting his chin in his hand. “How come you’re awake right now?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked you first, cowboy.”

Smiling slightly, Mike looked back out the patio door. “Just have a lot on my mind, I guess. I came down here just to get a cup of tea. Helps to calm my crazy brain.”

“Ah,” was all Peter responded with, lacing his folding his hands on top of the table and looking down at them. He realized that he’d never really gotten any chances just to talk with Mike like this. They always had to be doing something else too, like playing guitars or watching television. It made it a bit hard to truly connect with him as a friend, but here they were, doing pretty much nothing, so Peter took advantage of the situation. “What, uh…what's on your mind?”

“Huh?” Mike seemed a bit startled, like he had been lost in his own little world for a moment. “Oh, um…I dunno. Just this n' that. Nothin' too specific.”

Peter had to wonder if that was really true. Usually, when someone couldn’t sleep because their own thoughts, it was because they were troubled by something. The only question was, what was Mike troubled by? The Texan often liked to make it seem that nothing ever bothered him. Maybe it was to protect himself, or because he didn’t want to bore other people with his problems. It was probably a bit of both, Peter was willing to bet. 

“Hey, Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“You never did tell me why Phyllis, uh…y'know…” 

“Oh.” Mike didn’t seem very inclined to say anything else.

Peter tried to press further. “So why did she?”

This time, Mike looked back at him, and Peter was taken slightly aback. Suddenly, he realized how truly good looking his friend was as he studied his features in the dim lighting of the kitchen. He had the most lovely big brown eyes and a pair of perfectly plump and pouty lips. His raven hair, though it seemed thick and coarse, still looked so soft in that moment, and Peter had to wonder what it really felt like. He almost ached to reach out an run a hand through it. Now, Peter was far beyond the point of realizing that he had an interest in men. He had figured that out a long time ago, back in the village, but the fact that he was finding Mike to be attractive was the alarming part of it all. Mike was as straight as an arrow, and there was no telling how he would have reacted if he had caught Peter staring and admiring his features. But wasn’t Peter staring right now? Oh, God.

But it didn’t matter anyway. When he came back to reality, he found that Mike was looking down at his own hands. Had he even answered Peter’s question?

“Mike?”

“I said it’s not important…”

Peter frowned slightly, and very tentatively reached over to place a hand on Mike’s arm. “Are you sure it’s nothing you want to talk about?”

Mike shook his head, still looking down. “I ain’t proud of it. I’d rather just forget it all happened, okay?”

“Alright, Michael,” Peter said, keeping his voice soft. “But if you change your mind…” A silent offer stood in the air, and Mike just nodded.

“I know. Thanks buddy.”

~*~

The next few days continued as they had before; Mike and Peter woke up, they went to the studio, filmed whatever they were told to, went to the other studio and finished up a song or two, returned home, ate dinner, and went to bed. It was rare that they had spare time on the weekdays, but today they had both woken up early so they were taking their time before they had to leave. This was especially convenient for Peter, because he had something he wanted to bring up.

As they both sat down to eat their breakfast, he idly pushed his eggs around with his fork, trying to think of the best way to say what he was about to say. 

“Hey, Mike. I wanted to let you know something.”

“Oh?” Mike glanced up at him. “What's that?”

Peter cleared his throat. “Well, uh…” God, how could he say this without being incredibly awkward? “You’re a man, and men need certain things…I mean, I am one so I should know…” Had he chosen to look up in that moment, he would have seen how utterly confused Mike was. “So I just wanted to let you know that it’s alright if you, y’know, bring a chick back here every once and a while. I wouldn’t have a problem with it.” This time, he did choose to look up, and he was met with an unreadable gaze. He hated that he could never quite tell what Mike was thinking.

There was an awkward pause before Mike said, “Thanks.” And that was all he said, not that Peter could blame him. What was he supposed to say? ‘Gee, Pete! Thanks for givin' me permission to fuck under your roof!’ 

Peter barely managed to stop himself from cracking up.

~*~

They didn’t see much of each other that day. They didn’t have many scenes together, and after they were done working in the other studio (that was their name for it), Peter decided to make a quick trip to the grocery store for a few things he needed in the kitchen. When he returned home, he found a quiet house, even though Mike’s car was in the garage, and he wondered where the Texan was. 

“Mike?” he called, waiting a few seconds but getting no answer. Shrugging it off, he took his bag of groceries into the kitchen and proceeded to put them away. Once that was done, he decided to head upstairs and into the bathroom, where he stripped himself of all clothing and jumped into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful after a long day, and he took his sweet time as he washed his hair and body. Soon enough, he was emerging from the steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and he started on his way to the bedroom. However, he stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice coming from Mike’s bedroom.

“There’s a certain something in the way you  
Looked at me and said you’d stay that  
Let me know that I was out of line…”

It was clearly Mike singing, accompanied by the sound of an acoustic guitar. Peter found he couldn't help himself as he crept towards the door of Mike’s bedroom, which was luckily left ajar so he could peek inside. He saw Mike perched on the edge of the bed with his guitar in his lap, his eyes closed as he sang. It was clear that he poured his heart and soul into it, causing Peter to smile softly as he leaned against the doorframe, accidently pushing the door open all the way but not minding. Mike didn’t even notice.

“And now I feel  
Like such a fool  
For making you crawl back to me  
But you did it with such love  
That you’re standing far above  
Me and all I did to you  
I'm sorry now what can I do…”

Peter found himself unable to walk away, becoming almost as lost in the song as Mike was, except his eyes weren’t closed. He was watching Mike, admiring him. The sadness of the song really came out in the way he moved and in his facial expressions, and it made Peter want to hug him. That was funny. He had never wanted to hug Mike before.

As the song came to a close, Mike let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed well after strumming the last chord.

“That was beautiful.”

Mike jumped, turning to face the doorway and nearly dropping his guitar in the process. “Don’t do that! What’s up with you and scarin' the great bejesus outta me?!”

“I’m sorry, I just heard you singing and I couldn’t help coming to listen!” Peter couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the peeved look on Mike’s face. He looked adorable. “It sounded really good.”

Mike’s expression softened in response to the compliment. “Really?” he asked. “I been workin' on it for a while now but I just wasn't sure if it was really all the great.”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing, I really did like it!” Peter insisted, coming further into the room. It didn’t escape him that Mike’s eyes seemed to widen slightly at the sight of him in only a towel. 

“Well, um…thanks.” Mike was becoming a bit flustered it seemed, deliberately looking away from Peter as his cheeks turned pink. Peter didn’t blame him. This must have been awkward. “Don’t you think you should put some clothes on?”

“Oh. Sure,” Peter shrugged, smiling amusedly to himself as he turned to leave the room. He knew Mike wasn't that uptight, but he was probably very set in his ways – like one of those guys who were determined that they were completely straight so they refused to get too close to another man, much less one in a towel. Although, Peter was pretty sure Mike really was completely straight. God, why did he have to be so attractive, though? Living in the same house made it easier to notice how handsome he was, Peter supposed.

He was just another guy that Peter couldn’t have.

~*~

Peter sighed as he sat back on the couch in his living room. Mike wasn’t there, he had no one to talk to, and he felt lonely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be alone in his house, since he wasn’t in a relationship and his friends usually didn’t come over unless he was having a party. Although, he found that he always had a few people hanging around for a few days after his parties. Still, he was used to being alone, but the loneliness had never hit him quite as hard as it was now. Somehow, with Mike being gone when he was usually there, it just felt worse. 

Earlier, at the end of the day in the studio, Mike had come to him to tell him that he wouldn’t be back home until the next morning, on Saturday. Peter immediately realized that Mike would be spending the night at someone else’s house, no doubt a girl's. Even though Peter had told him that it was alright to bring girls back to the house, Mike still didn’t seem comfortable with the idea. Maybe it was just because he was a bit more closed off compared to other people, and didn’t want to risk supplying Peter with a full, uncut soundtrack of him screwing a chick.

For a moment, Peter wondered what that would have sounded like. He imagined himself laying in bed, listening to the muffled sounds of low grunts and groans and high pitched moans, accompanied by a bed hitting a wall. For some reason, he was willing to bet that Mike really went at it hard. He just seemed like the kind of guy who needed to assert his masculinity and dominance in bed. He probably got what he wanted when he wanted it, and took it all without hesitation. Suddenly, Peter found himself in Mike’s bedroom (mentally, of course. He was still on the couch, really). He saw the image of a naked girl on the bed, her legs spread as she offered herself fully to an equally naked Mike, who was kneeling before her on the bed. He slowly kissed down her body, making her shiver and sigh as-

Wait, stop it! You can’t seriously be thinking about this, Peter scolded himself. But it was too late. He was already getting hard, and his mind was running wild despite his protests.

Back in Mike’s bedroom, the Texan kissed his way down the girl’s body until he arrived at the center of her arousal. He playfully nipped at the insides of her thighs before flicking his tongue over her clit, causing her to gasp and moan. God, he must have been amazing with that mouth, Peter thought. What would it have felt like on him instead of the girl? Before he could stop himself, he found himself taking the girl out of the scene, and putting himself in her place. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed instead, however, and Mike was kneeling on the floor between his legs, looking up at him with a sultry gaze. In real life, Peter’s hand moved onto the bulge in his pants to begin firmly massaging it.

Mike softly rubbed Peter’s thighs as he leaned in, sticking his tongue out to trace a vein on the underside of his cock. He licked and lapped at the hard member like it was a delicious ice cream cone, and Peter imagined himself groaning as he gripped Mike’s hair, his cock throbbing intensely both in his little daydream and in reality. 

“Ohhh, shit…” Peter sighed, continuing to rub himself through his pants while keeping his eyes closed and allowing himself to continue to fantasize. 

Mike gave a soft hum as he took Peter into his mouth, slowly sucking him down to the root. Those plump lips looked so gorgeous wrapped around his cock. 

Peter began to rub himself more vigorously, moaning quietly as he felt himself rushing to a quick orgasm. Thoughts of Mike licking and sucking his cock filled his head, driving him crazy until he couldn’t take it anymore, and he ended up coming with a loud groan. A wet spot quickly spread across the crotch of his pants but he paid no mind to it, falling limp into the couch cushions. He couldn’t believe he had just masturbated to thoughts of his friend, who just happened to be Mike.

~*~

The next day was…difficult to say the least. Upon Mike's return home, Peter had never been more awkward. He found it hard to look Mike in the eye, or even look at him at all. Just the sight of him reminded Peter of his fantasy from the night before. He didn’t talk much, giving mere hums of acknowledgement when Mike remarked on something, or giving simple one word answers such as “yes,” “no,” and “really?”

Mike seemed to notice this after a while, and stopped talking altogether. Then Peter started to feel bad, hoping he hadn’t hurt the Texan. He wasn’t really sure what to say, however, so he eventually just ended up going out onto the patio and sitting in a chair to watch the sunset. He didn’t get much peace, though, because within a few minutes Mike walked out in an unusually timid manner. 

“Uh…Peter?” he said, coming to stand before his friend and seeming a bit awkward. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“What? No, what makes you think that?” Peter mentally kicked himself for asking that. He already knew the answer, of course it was because he had been basically ignoring Mike all day.

“Well, it’s just that you haven’t really talked to me all day, or even looked at me.” There was a slight frown that was uncharacteristic of Mike, showing that he was a bit hurt and confused. What perplexed Peter was why Mike suddenly seemed to care so much. Usually, he would have at least pretended to shrug it off and act like he didn’t care, so why wasn’t he doing that now?

Sighing, Peter leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…I had a weird time last night when you were gone, is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh. You wanna talk about it?”

“…no, not really. Thanks, though.”

Mike simply shrugged, accepting this and sitting in the chair beside Peter's. The two of them just sat there in silence for a bit, gazing out at the sunset and admiring its beauty. The clouds were lit up in a glorious mess of oranges, pinks and even light purples, and just the sight relaxed Peter. He didn’t feel awkward sitting here with Mike anymore, and thought that he only thing that would’ve made it better was if they both had a guitar in their laps. Instead, however, Peter decided he had a question to ask.

“So, who did you stay with last night?” He wasn’t trying to be nosy, he was just curious, and he figured it wasn’t such an extraordinary question. For some reason or another, though, Mike seemed to have trouble answering it.

“Oh, um…y’know. Just a chick…from the set.” Mike wouldn’t look at him, just continuing to stare out at the horizon and tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Peter had come to know that he only ever did that when he was impatient or nervous.

“Well, I figured that,” he chuckled, resisting the strangely tempting urge to reach over and hold Mike’s hand. “I hope everything went well.” Mike just happened to look over at that moment, which was when Peter winked suggestively. That seemed to get the Texan entirely too flustered, and Peter had to wonder what on Earth had just possessed him to say what he just had.

“It did,” Mike answered very simply with red cheeks, looking back out at the sunset. “In fact, I think I'll see her again soon.”

Suddenly, when Peter heard this, he felt a frustrating flash a jealousy. He realized that he didn’t like the thought of Mike spending time with whoever this person was. Was that why he was so curious about her? Was he being possessive? He had to sigh. Mike wasn’t his, whether Peter liked it or not. It was coming to the point where Peter wished he was his, though, because as he gazed over at Mike, he felt like he just wanted to grab the Texan and pull him close, growling possessively as he would claim those gorgeous lips in a deep, steamy kiss. God, he could only have imagined what would happen next…

He was distracted from his thoughts when Mike stood up, clearing his throat. “I think I’ll head up to bed,” he said, only now daring to look Peter in the eye. The blond man just forced a smile.

“Okay. Goodnight, Michael.”

“G'night.”

~*~

The next few days ran rather smoothly as Peter slowly let go of his jealousy. No mention was made of this mystery girl that Mike had been seeing, nor had he gone to see her again. Peter hoped it meant they weren’t going see each other at all anymore. He knew this feeling that he had was irrational. Mike was straight, and furthermore, he most certainly, and rather unfortunately, wasn’t into Peter. Still, a man could dream.

It was getting to the point now where Peter tried find excuses to talk to Mike whenever he could, like asking for help with tuning fussy guitar strings and “accidentally” going to get a coffee in the other studio at the same time as him. In fact, he was on his way to do that right now.

As he walked down the hallway to the break room, he had a smile on his face, eager to talk to Mike about the new song they were working on. He loved talking music with Mike. It was one thing they could truly bond over. As he approached the door of the break room, however, he found that it was only open a crack, and he heard Mike speaking. He couldn’t resist eavesdropping, even if he knew it was wrong. 

“We can’t do this here,” he heard Mike say, who sounded a bit panicky. “What if someone—mmph!”

Peter wasn’t sure what that was, but his mind automatically pictured a girl with her arms wrapped around Mike’s neck, cutting him off with a hard kiss. It was an almost infuriating thought. 

“C'mon, can’t it wait?” Mike started to talk again, his voice a harsh whisper. “I really don’t think—ummph! Stop doing that—oh! Mm…hmmm…” 

Peter could hear the sounds of two people – presumably Mike and the mystery girl – practically sucking each other’s faces off, and he made a face of disgust. Not because of the noises themselves, but…well, why couldn’t that have been him making out with Mike in the break room?

He stormed off shortly after, unable to listen to another second of it.

Later, after they were done recording, Mike came up to Peter, rubbing the back of his neck a bit awkwardly.

“Hey, um…I won’t be home tonight. I’m gonna be staying with someone…”

“Of course you are,” Peter muttered before he could stop himself.

“What?” 

“Nothing. Have a wonderful time.” He didn’t look up from what he was doing, just continuing to put his guitar away. He didn’t see Mike frown, but he heard his footsteps as he walked away without another word, and that was then he let out a sigh, frustrated with himself. Why did he have to be so jealous?


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was yet another Saturday morning on which Peter went down and wasn’t greeted by Mike, who despite it being the weekend, still woke up at the same time as he would have on any other day. It made him feel lonely, as much as he hated to admit it.

Yes, he missed Mike’s company, but he also wanted to apologize for the way he had acted the night before. Peter had no right to be so uptight about Mike staying with other people, no matter how much he wanted Mike for himself. How could you blame him, though, with Mike and his warm southern accent, and his wavy, dark hair, and his beautiful brown eyes…and his ass. It was almost unfair that such a skinny guy had such a nice, round ass, and the way he filled out a pair of jeans was just stupid sexy.

Peter had to stop his own thoughts before they turned into another “daydream.” Although, it wouldn’t have made much difference in the long run. All he thought about anymore was Mike, whether he was eating, sleeping, and of course, participating in more…private activities. He really didn’t mean to fantasize about his very straight friend, but he could help it. In one way or another, Mike would somehow end up slipping into his thoughts and eventually becoming the absolute center of them. Why did he have to be so enticing?

Why did he have to be someone that Peter just couldn’t have?

As the morning hours wore on, Mike still hadn't returned, and Peter had to wonder if it was because of him, or because Mike was just enjoying himself with whoever was with him. It wasn’t until two in the afternoon that the Texan came walking through the front door, and the sight of him was almost alarming. His hair was messy, his shirt was incorrectly and lazily buttoned, he looked completely out of it, and were those even his pants? He hadn’t left the studio wearing those.

“Woah,” Peter remarked from where he sat on the couch, a guitar in his lap. He set it down on the cushions to get up and follow Mike into the kitchen, watching as the Texan immediately went to retrieve a glass of water. “Are you okay, man?”

Mike just nodded, getting a few pain pills from a nearby cabinet and swallowing them down with the water. “Headache,” he explained briefly.

Yeah, he was definitely out of it. Peter wagered it was from a mixture of being exhausted, smoking too much weed the previous night, and probably consuming some alcohol as well. Upon taking a closer look, Peter spotted little red marks all over Mike's neck, and it made him raise an eyebrow. He was about to make a comment on it, but he was interrupted by Mike stumbling forward as he tried to walk off to the staircase. Peter acted quickly, catching him by the arm before he could fall.

“Jesus, what the hell did you take last night?” Peter asked, keeping both hands on Mike’s shoulders as he turned the dark haired man around to face him.

“I-I dunno…” Mike admitted, and Peter sighed. Maybe it hadn’t been copious amounts of weed, but some sort of mystery drug. “It was a pill…that’s all I know.”

“Well whatever it was, don’t take it again,” Peter said, suddenly feeling very protective over Mike. Was it that girl who had given him drugs? Was she the cause of Mike returning home in this state? That wasn’t as important as other things in the moment. Mike needed taking care of, especially since he didn’t seem like he was capable of even walking on his own.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Peter placed a hand between Mike’s shoulder blades to keep him steady as they slowly walked up the stairs. Mike really wasn’t in any condition to resist, and he probably knew better than Peter that he smelled terribly of alcohol and sweat, and desperately needed a bath.

Peter decided to help him with that, too.

He hadn’t been planning to, but after filling up the tub with hot water and getting up to leave, he saw that Mike just stayed sitting on top of the toilet cover where Peter had put him, and didn’t seem to want to move anytime soon.

So, with a sigh, Peter helped him to stand up and began to undress him. When he pulled off Mike’s shirt, he was in shock, his eyes widening as he saw that the red marks weren’t limited to his neck. They went all the way down his back and chest, and there were red rings around his nipples as if they had been…well, sucked. Peter’s first thought was, damn, this chick must be wild. His second thought was, how dare she do this to Mike's soft, gorgeous skin?

As he removed Mike’s pants, he tried not to look at what was under them, making sure to only look above his waist as he guided Mike into the tub. Mike went along with all of it, not really seeming to have any reaction to what was happening. He sat back against the wall of the tub, and Peter got to work, grabbing the bar of soap and beginning to scrub down Mike’s body.

Peter wasn’t nervous or blushing about this, because there wasn’t any time for that, the way he saw it. His first priority was taking care of Mike and making sure he was okay, and he knew for a fact that he still would have done this if he wasn’t crushing insanely on his friend. He had always cared about Mike, and wanted him to be okay.

He washed Mike’s hair as well, gently scrubbing his scalp and being careful not to get any shampoo in his eyes. As he did this, the most interesting thing began to happen. Mike's eyes were becoming droopy, and soon enough, he was nodding off. It was incredibly cute.

Once he was all rinsed off and as clean as Peter could get him, Peter lifted Mike up under his arms into a standing position, wrapping a towel around him and helping him out of the tub. He used another smaller towel to dry his hair, until it was messy and fluffy. He then brushed it out, and as soon as he was about to take Mike out of the bathroom, another interesting thing happened. The drowsy Texan leaned forward, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder and sighing softly. Peter’s arms were already pretty much wrapped around him, so all he could do was keep them there. He wondered why in the world Mike was doing this, but then again, he seemed so overtired and completely out of it that he was probably past the point of caring about how he was acting. Maybe he just needed comfort, too, and how could Peter deny him that?

Peter smiled softly to himself, and in realizing that Mike was probably too sleepy to walk very far, he decided to lift the Texan up in his arms like a groom would his bride on their wedding day, carrying him out of the bathroom.

“We're gonna get you to bed where you can just rest and relax, okay Mike?”

Mike responded by softly nuzzling into Peter’s chest, mumbling incoherently. He really wasn’t acting like himself, or maybe this was what he was like deep down when he wasn't trying to be strong and independent. In reality, he wanted to be taken care of like this, but never had the courage to ask for it. Or at least, that was Peter’s guess.

He carried Mike into the bedroom, setting him carefully on the bed. He went into the dresser to find a pair of pajama pants, and helped Mike to get them on before tucking him in.

“There you go,” Peter said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. Mike’s eyes were already starting to close again, so Peter took that as a sign to leave. As soon as he reached the door, however, he heard something that was quite unexpected.

“Don't go…”

Peter turned around, looking hesitantly over at Mike. “I have to…I’m gonna make us some dinner.”

“Please…” was all Mike responded with, causing Peter to frown. He didn’t want to leave Mike all alone like this, but what would it have looked like to him if he woke up and didn’t have any recollection of this happening? How would he react to being half naked in bed with Peter?

“I’m sorry, Michael. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

He got no answer, and decided to leave before he felt even more guilty about his decision.

~*~

Five hours later, Peter was walking up the stairs with a tray in his hands. On the tray, there was a hot bowl of soup, a warm cup of tea, and two more pain pills in case Mike needed them. When he opened the bedroom door, he found Mike lying awake in bed, and smiled.

“Hey,” he greeted, to which Mike looked over at him.

“Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“A lot better than before, I can tell ya that much. Head still hurts, though.”

Peter came over to sit on the edge of the bed, seeing all those red marks across Mike's chest and up his neck again. He tried not to frown, and didn’t bring attention to it, instead putting on a kind smile. “Well it’s a good thing I brought some pain pills for you.”

Mike carefully sat up, seeing the tray in Peter’s hands and giving a small smile as it was placed in his lap. “Did you make this for me?”

Smiling, Peter nodded. “There’s more in the pot downstairs if you want seconds. I already ate so have as much as you want.”

Mike was already starting to eat, probably feeling pretty hungry since he hadn't eaten in over five hours. It was nice to see him back to his normal self, but Peter was curious about how much he recalled from before he had fallen asleep.

“Hey, um…how much do you remember from earlier? After you came home?”

There was a moment of silence, and Mike didn’t look up as he answered, “A lot.”

Peter was worried that Mike was uncomfortable with the fact that his own friend had undressed him and helped bathe him. Who wouldn’t have been?

When Peter didn’t respond for a moment or two, Mike looked up at him, his eyes surprisingly not showing any signs of discomfort or unease. “It’s okay…what you did, I mean. I'm kinda grateful, actually. I don’t think I could’ve even gotten upstairs on my own.”

Peter was relieved that he wasn’t upset, but still hesitant to accept it. “So…the part about you being naked and all that…you’re not uncomfortable with that?”

Shaking his head, Mike looked back down, continuing to eat his soup. “No. I know you were just trying to help, and lord knows I probably stunk worse than a garbage dump.”

The little joke made Peter laugh softly, and although the tension was leaving the room at this point, he couldn’t forget about the red marks. He was so tempted to ask about them, but Mike didn’t seem to even realize they were they. If he did, he obviously didn’t want to talk about them.

“And besides,” Mike continued, “as far as I can remember, you were completely respectful. You didn’t pull anything funny or…well, y'know. In other words, thank you.”

Peter just smiled and nodded. He wondered if Mike remembered the part when Peter had carried him, and he had basically cuddled up to the blond man, but he figured it was best not to bring it up.

Standing up, Peter started on his way to the door. “Well, I guess I’ll just leave you alone now. If you need anything just—”

“Wait.”

Peter stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at Mike. He wasn’t looking back, however, instead facing down at his bowl of soup again.

“I, um…I'm sorry I got so close to you at one point before,” Mike said, no doubt in reference to how he had leaned into Peter and all that other great stuff. “I was just really out of it…didn't really know what I was doing…”

So he did remember. He still wasn’t looking at Peter, though.

“It’s okay. You were just tired, you probably thought I was a pillow.”

Mike just chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. “Who knows?”

Peter nodded and turned back to the door, saying as he walked out, “Yeah. Who knows?”

~*~

Thankfully, Mike ended up recovering very well from his drug induced haze. He was still rather sluggish, and was turning out to be having a bit of trouble keeping his food down, but he seemed fine otherwise. He was smiling and laughing and telling jokes, maybe even more than usual. Peter enjoyed seeing him so jovial. He loved Mike’s smile, and the feeling he got whenever he was the one to make it show up. It was a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling, which, in turn, made him smile. He knew Mike was self conscious about his smile, maybe because he didn’t have perfect teeth (although to Peter they were perfect just because of who they belonged to), but whenever Peter said something funny or mentioned some good news, Mike never seemed hesitant to give one of those big, toothy grins. It must've been because he was just more comfortable around his friends, but it still made Peter feel special to him.

The day after Mike’s concerning return home was a Sunday, which both he and Peter were thankful for. Mike needed to rest, for one, and Peter needed to take care of him. Well, maybe he didn’t need to, but there was no way he was about to leave Mike alone after such a scary incident. It hadn’t hit him so hard when it had actually been happening, but now that he thought back on it, seeing Mike so out of it had been terrifying. He was normally so strong and independent, and the sight of him so helpless and vulnerable was something Peter never wanted to witness again.

Although, the one upside of it all was that Mike had finally let down those solid concrete walls that usually surrounded his emotions. Deep down, he was a sensitive and gentle man, and Peter could tell just by little instances during which Mike would let that side of himself show through a tiny crack in one of those concrete walls. Each time was beautiful to Peter. Even if it had taken Mike getting as high as a kite, Peter was glad for the fact that he had gotten to interact with the least guarded version of Mike that he had ever seen.

And that moment when the Texan had laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. That made Peter sigh and smile. It had undoubtedly just been caused by how incredibly tired Mike had been, but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel Mike in his arms again.

It was a rainy morning when Peter came downstairs to get some breakfast. He loved sunny days, but at the same time he enjoyed the occasional rainy one that always meant staying inside, playing music, and eating warm food. In fact, he was just about to make himself a bowl of oatmeal when he spotted Mike sitting at the piano in the living room, his back facing the blond man. He was awake at his usual early time, despite the fact that he really did need rest. Peter knew he couldn’t do anything about it, though, so he didn’t plan on mentioning it.

As Peter came closer, he heard a few simple chords softly echoing from the piano, and smiled. Mike didn’t really know how to play much more than what he was playing now, but he always seemed fascinated by the piano.

“What song are you playing?”

Mike jumped when he heard Peter’s voice, turning to glare at him. “Is a day ever gonna go by when you don’t do that?”

“I didn’t do it yesterday,” Peter smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Mike just sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to the piano. He played the same few simple chords as before, only speaking afterwards. “I’m not really playin’ anything in particular. Just messin' around.”

“Ahh, I see.” Peter came over to sit beside him on the piano bench. There wasn't much space for the two of them, so their thighs were touching, and Peter could’ve sworn he saw Mike tense up for just a moment.

“I, uh…I was just thinkin'…” Mike began, like he wasn’t sure what to say. Was it their close proximity that was bothering him? “I really wish I could play piano…as good as you, I mean…”

Peter narrowed his eyes at Mike when the Texan looked down at the piano keys. He was just looking for something to say, wasn't he? Peter was making him feel uncomfortable, was that it? Or maybe their closeness was having a different effect on him…

As much as Peter knew it probably wasn’t true, he couldn’t help but test his theory out.

“You just have to practice, that’s all, Michael,” he said, standing up from the piano bench. He didn’t hear a response, but he did hear Mike merely continuing to play those few chords. He saw an opportunity there, and when Mike paused at the same spot as each time before, Peter came up behind him and leaned over him, his chest pressing against Mike’s back. He heard a tiny gasp in response.

“It sounds good,” Peter said, keeping his voice low, soft, and close to Mike's ear. “Maybe try this chord next…”

He reached around Mike so he was basically hugging the taller man, brushing his hands away from the keys and placing his own fingers on them in order to play a simple A minor chord. He then removed his hands and placed them on Mike’s upper arms. “Now you try.”

Mike didn’t move. He seemed like he was completely stiff and glued to the spot. Peter wondered what his face looked like in that moment. Peter also wondered why the hell he was doing this. What was he hoping to accomplish? He was quickly beginning to realize what a bad idea this had been, and that he was probably freaking Mike out big time.

In fact, Mike still hadn’t moved. There was complete silence aside from the rain tapping gently on the windows. A good ten, maybe twenty seconds passed before something finally happened.

Suddenly, Mike stood up from the bench, leaving Peter’s “accidental” embrace. “I have to use the bathroom,” he stated briefly, keeping his back turned to Peter as he walked away. He practically ran up the stairs once he got to them.

Peter just stared at him as he left, realizing he had just done something incredibly stupid. Why did he have to go and do a thing like that? Couldn’t he control himself, or was he just that head over heels for his friend? His very-not-gay friend. His friend who was seeing another girl.

Peter felt a sudden ball of fury light inside of him. That girl clearly didn’t deserve Mike. Not after what she had done to him. Giving him some sort of mystery drug? Leaving all those hickeys all over his beautiful skin? What kind of girl was she, anyway? If Peter had his way, he wouldn’t have had Mike seeing her anymore, because he couldn’t stand the thought of someone treating him so carelessly.

Well, that, and he wanted Mike all for himself.

To Peter’s surprise, Mike came back downstairs only a few minutes after he had left, but he avoided his friend’s eyes. Peter wasn't sure of whether to apologize or just act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but then again, how should he apologize for something like this? ‘Hey, sorry for sexually harassing you back there, I just couldn’t keep my hands off ya, bud!’

No, that wouldn’t work. That would just give away the fact that Peter had an enormous crush on Mike, and the sort of thing he had done was hard to pass off as a joke. So he would pretend it didn’t happen.

Currently, Mike was in the kitchen, fixing a bowl of cereal. Peter decided to sit on a stool at the counter, giving his best attempt at a casual smile.

“Cornflakes for breakfast?” he asked.

Mike paused, only now looking up at him and quirking an eyebrow as if to contemplate responding at all. To Peter’s great relief, he did.

“Yep.” He resumed putting together his cereal.

“Good.” That was all Peter could think to reply with, and he felt an awkward air quickly beginning to stir. Neither man said anything for a good few minutes, and the only thing that could be heard at all was the sound of Mike munching on his cornflakes.

This was ridiculous, Peter thought, and decided to try to break the silence.

“Hey, um…thanks again for wanting to use my song on the new album,” he said, but Mike looked a bit confused.

“Which one? There are a few.”

“The one we were working on on Friday. Y'know, before you left to go to your girlfriend’s house.” Peter resisted the urge to sigh angrily as he said those words.

Upon realizing what he meant, Mike smiled. “Oh yeah! That’s a real good one!” Seeing that classic, toothy grin made Peter want to sigh out of relief this time. At least Mike wasn’t mad at him.

“Anyway, it’s no problem. This album is supposed to be our album, and it wouldn't be ours if it didn’t have a little bit of all of us on it, right?”

“That’s a good point,” Peter nodded, then shrugged a bit. “I guess I just got kinda put down when they said we were only there to sing the songs they told us to. I really thought this was gonna be my chance to play music and be happy with what I did.”

“Well it is now, ain’t it?” Mike offered a smile that showed how well he understood where Peter was coming from. They were the two serious musicians of the group, so they were often able to connect with one another easier than they could with Micky or Davy.

“Yeah. It is,” Peter replied, a little smile tugging at his own lips. “I just wish we had a name for that song I wrote…”

Mike looked down, nodding thoughtfully. There was a moment of silence, until he looked up and started to giggle. “For Pete’s sake.”

Peter tried to understand what he was laughing about, but couldn’t quite catch on, and tilted his head to the side. “Huh?”

“For Pete's Sake. That should be the title.”

“What? Why'd you think of that?”

Still giggling, Mike shook his head. “I dunno, man.”

While Peter was still a little confused, Mike’s laughter was contagious in that moment, and it quickly spread.

“Alright,” Peter nodded, laughing as well. “That's what we’ll call it. Happy, you crazy bastard?”

Mike was laughing so hard now that he was doubling over, and even though neither man really knew what was so funny, they were soon gasping for breath and wiping tears from their eyes as they clung to the kitchen counter.

The atmosphere from that point on was light and jovial, and they eventually ended up lounging around on top of several large pillows that Peter always had on his living room floor. They were still in their pajamas but neither of them cared since they were having such a good time talking and laughing together. However, as the old saying went, all good things had to come to an end.

Somehow, they had gotten onto the topic of significant others, and Peter noticed how Mike wasn’t saying much about his current girlfriend, so of course he decided to bring her up in the worst way possible.

“Man, you think I’ve had weird girlfriends?” Peter asked, leaning further back into the pillows. “The one you've got now must be wild!”

Raising an eyebrow, Mike crossed his arms over his chest in an almost challenging manner. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that?”

Peter had to scoff. “Have you even seen yourself since you came home yesterday? Look at all those hickeys all over you!”

“Well I—"

“What kind of weird stuff is that chick into, anyway? I’ve never known any girl that wanted to mark me up all over. Usually it works the other way around!”

Mike had fallen silent by this point, but Peter barely even noticed as he continued to rant.

“Honestly, that scared the shit out of me yesterday when I saw all those marks. It still scares the shit out of me. I don’t like the idea of those things on you. They'll probably take forever to fade. If a girl ever did that to me, or tried to, I'd probably up and leave her right then and there. Maybe— Mike?”

Suddenly, Mike was standing up and walking away. He didn’t even look back when Peter said his name.

“Mike, where are you going?”

“To mind my own business,” Mike answered as he headed up the stairs. “Maybe you should give it a try.”

Peter just sat there with his mouth slightly agape as Mike disappeared around a corner. What the hell had just happened? Maybe Peter had overstepped his boundaries, but it wasn’t like Mike to just walk away from a conversation. He seemed to always get the last word in, so what was the deal now?

Again, it seemed Peter had messed up, and it was all up to him to fix it.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Peter gave a frustrated sigh as he tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable in his bed. It was a hot and sticky night, and he just couldn’t get to sleep. Even though he was completely naked, he still felt so uncomfortably overheated. Additionally, he couldn’t get the whole situation with Mike off his mind. The Texan hadn’t talked to him all day, and it was clear that Peter had really ticked him off.

He spent a long while just trying to cool off and get comfortable, but he soon stopped when he heard a knock at the door. Who could that have been? He and Mike were the only ones in the house, and there was no way Mike wanted to talk to him at…what time was it, anyway?

Before he could even think to answer the door, it opened up to reveal Mike in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, and his eyes widened.

“Mike?”

“I'm sorry,” Mike immediately said.

“What?”

Entering the room, Mike shut the door behind himself and came over to the bed. “I'm sorry,” he repeated. “Y'know, for walkin' off earlier.”

Peter was perplexed. “I-It's okay…I guess?” It was then that he noticed something strange. Mike's skin was back to its smooth, flawless state. There wasn’t a red mark to be seen. “Mike, where are all the hickeys—”

“I hope you really do forgive me…” Suddenly, Mike was climbing onto the bed and moving to lay on top of Peter.

“Wh-what? Mike, I don’t have any clothes on!” Peter tried to warn, but Mike wasn’t listening. He was looking up at the blond man with big doe eyes, while Peter looked back at him with wide, startled ones.

“I really feel bad,” he continued, now slowly moving down Peter’s body while kissing every inch of skin that passed him. “I wanna make it up to you…”

Peter tried to protest as he watched his friend go lower and lower, but then he realized that he wanted this to happen more than anything. If Mike wanted to suck his dick then who was Peter to deny him what he seemed to need so bad?

Before anymore thoughts could pass through Peter’s head, he felt a delightfully wet warmth enveloping his cock, and he sighed as he let his head fall back onto the pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.

When he opened them back up, the room was bright with morning light, and the wet warmth was gone. Looking down, he saw that Mike was no longer between his legs, but he had a massive erection. It was a dream, he realized. A short-lived, yet amazing dream. By now, he had stopped trying to keep himself from fantasizing about Mike. He knew there was no stopping it, so he accepted it, even if it seemed to be slowly ruining his friendship with Mike.

Heaving another sigh, he sat up in bed, and was quickly reminded of his insistent hard on when his sensitive cock rubbed against the sheets. It gave a needy throb in response, and Peter bit his lip. He knew he would have to take care of this before he did anything else.

He ended up taking a long, hot shower (during which he jerked off to thoughts of a certain tall, dark and handsome Texan, of course). When he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, he went into the bedroom to get dressed. That was when he happened to glance at the clock.

10:21.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, hurrying to jump into some pants and a t-shirt. He remembered that it was Monday, and that he had totally forgotten to set his alarm his night before. Now he was two hours late for work.

He ended up leaving the house with a piece of pre-sliced white bread hanging out of his mouth and his hair thoroughly damp and unbrushed. Fifteen minutes later, he was rushing into the studio, where he found everyone waiting around for him.

“There he is!” he heard Micky say, and only seconds later the drummer was approaching him with that classic wide, amused grin of his. “What’s a' matter, Torkmeister? Overslept?”

“Yeah, I forgot my fuckin' alarm last night,” he said, sighing and shaking his head as he proceeded to head for his dressing room. Micky followed, either because he was feeling excited and sociable or he had something on his mind that he wanted to vent out to Peter. Those were really only the two reasons for him doing anything, ever. Well, there was a third, which was the fact that he was just Micky. That was a good way for anyone to explain the things he did.

“Y’know, Mike's in a real shit mood this morning.”

Peter visibly tensed up at the mere mention of Mike as he got to his dressing room door, his hand freezing in mid-reach for the doorknob. Had he turned around, he would’ve seen the way Micky raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” Peter asked, trying to act as casually as possible. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Micky answered as Peter remembered to unfreeze and open the door. The two of them stepped into the room, and Peter flicked on the light. “I was going to ask you if you knew, actually.”

Peter spun around to face him, clearly startling Micky with his jumpiness. “Why do you think I'd know?”

Micky was timid, backing away slightly. “…well because you live together. I just…thought you might’ve heard something from him, is all.” He then relaxed his shoulders a bit, furrowing his brow. “Are you okay, man?”

Peter, knowing he couldn’t even pretend that he was okay, took a deep breath and shook his head. “No,” he said as he strolled over to the little couch in his dressing room and plopped down onto it. “I’m the exact opposite of okay, actually. Everything just blows right now.”

Micky frowned slightly, coming over to join him on the couch. He was always good at being there for Peter and caring about his problems, and that was why Peter considered him to be a great friend. “So what’s on your mind?”

Peter wasn’t sure how to answer that, knowing he couldn’t just come right out and say that Mike was what was on his mind. It wasn’t because he was a man; Micky knew that Peter swung both ways, it wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone. It was the fact that it was Mike, his band mate and friend – someone he wasn’t supposed to want as a…as a what? What exactly did Peter want him as? Did he just want Mike as a quick, one time fuck? Or did he want Mike for his very own, to have and to hold anytime he wanted? To kiss and love and to whisper sweet nothings to? All he really knew was that he wanted Mike. He just wasn’t sure how, or why he wanted Mike.

“It’s just…” Peter reluctantly began. “You know when you want someone really, really bad, but they’re completely off limits? And when you try to get closer with them, they get irritated and it just cements the fact that you can never have them?”

“Of course,” Micky nodded, dialing back on his usual crazy, all-over-the-place personality in order to listen and understand where Peter was coming from. “Why? Who is this person?”

That was something that Peter couldn’t bring himself to answer, no matter how desperately he wanted to. Maybe he was suffering so much because he hadn’t told anyone about his infatuation with Mike. He just hadn’t been able to get it off his chest, and therefore he couldn’t get it off his mind.

Maybe it would help to tell Micky.

“Well, um…we know him – er, uh—”

“Him?” Micky gasped, maybe a bit too dramatically. Definitely a bit too dramatically. Peter, in turn, glared at him.

“Yes, him. You know I’m bisexual, Mick.”

“Yeah, I know. I just didn’t think you had a romantic attraction to any men,” Micky shrugged. “I thought you just liked to fuck them.”

Peter wanted to sigh for what felt like the millionth time that morning, although maybe he couldn’t blame Micky. He'd only had romantic relationships with other men before his Monkee days, so nobody really knew about them. They just knew about the wild orgies Peter would put together, and that he was willing to get “down and dirty” with anyone there. For now, he decided not to think about it, remembering that he had something else to be worrying about.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he said, resting his elbow on the arm of the couch, and his chin in his hand. “I just wanna get over him.”

“You still haven’t told me who 'him' is,” Micky reminded, not-so-subtly prodding for answers. It was caused by both a mixture of him caring about Peter and wanting to help, and the fact that he was curious and a bit nosy.

Peter turned briefly and slightly to look at him. “I told you, it’s someone we know,” was all he answered with. Why was it so hard just to say “Michael”?

“You’re really gonna make me guess?” Micky asked, sounding exasperated. “What, are we in middle school or something? Just tell me.”

“It’s just hard to say!” Peter exclaimed, wishing he could just force the name out. “He’s straight, Mick, and everyone knows it. I have no chance with him, and that’s just how it is. I don’t even know why I'm obsessing over him! He’s just so uptight and stubborn all the time, I can’t even begin to get close to him! Maybe it’s some kind of weird Texas thing to be so god damn stiff-necked all the time, but it’s so exhausting!”

There was a moment of silence, before Micky slowly said, “…so it's Mike?”

Peter realized that he had just revealed everything, and his shoulders sunk. He was both disappointed and relieved. Finally, he admitted to the truth. “Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s Mike.”

“Huh,” Micky acknowledged thoughtfully. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you for falling in love with him.”

“I’m not—” Peter was about to say he wasn’t in love with Mike, but in that moment, he realized that he must’ve been. Why else would he feel so possessive and protective over him? Why else would he spend every waking moment thinking of him? It all made so much sense, but it just made matters worse. Micky really was right. “Yeah, it is pretty stupid.”

That was all he said, and there was a moment of silence between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, however, as both of them were thinking about the whole situation.

“So why don’t you give it a try?” Micky asked, and before Peter could say that Mike would’ve killed him, he quickly continued. “I mean, don’t make it obvious, but hint at it a little and see if he’s interested. If it doesn’t work, you can just act like you weren’t doing anything the whole time, and he'll never know.”

Peter realized it actually was a good idea, but there was just one problem. “As much as I’d like to try that, he's not available. He's got a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Micky asked. Apparently, Peter was the only one who one about this. “Who is she?”

“Well, uh…I'm not sure,” he admitted a bit awkwardly. “I’ve never actually seen her.”

“Do you know her name, at least?”

“Well…no.”

Micky raised an eyebrow, finding this to be somewhat suspicious. “Have you asked?”

Peter nodded. “A few times, yeah. He just doesn’t ever seem to want to talk about her. And…well, to tell you the truth, I think she’s some sort of sadist or something.” Peter then proceeded to tell Micky about what had happened Saturday, when Mike had came home with all sorts of little bruises and bite makes all over his body, and how he had been as high as a kite. He left out the part about the bath, of course.

Micky seemed astonished by it all. “Really? Gosh, Mike doesn’t seem like the kinda guy who would let anyone do that stuff to him.”

“Exactly.”

Micky didn’t quite understand, and after Peter simply stared at him with a raised eyebrow for a moment, his own eyes widened in realization.

“What, you think she drugged him up so she could…?”

“Have her way with him?” Peter finished Micky's question for him. “Yeah, I got that feeling as I started to add everything up in my head.”

Again, there was more silence as the two pondered the situation.

“Hmph,” said Micky after a minute or two. “This just doesn’t seem right to me. I say we investigate.”

“Investigate?” Peter reiterated, his brow furrowing as he regarded his friend incredulously. “How the hell do you investigate something like this? What are you gonna do, spy on him?”

Micky just looked at him, giving a shrug. “Why not?”

“Because—oh, forget it.” Peter stood up then, moving to stand in front of the mirror in order to fix himself up. “Listen, get back to set and tell everyone I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Right on,” Micky nodded, getting up to head for the door, but stopping in his tracks when Peter called his name. He turned to the blond man, who gestured accusingly at Micky with his comb.

“Nothing I said leaves this room. Got it?”

“Got it,” Micky repeated with a nod, and with that, he exited the dressing room.

~*~

The day continued on as it normally would have, beside the fact that Peter and Mike were blatantly avoiding each other. The only time they even looked at one another was when they had lines to say to each other, and even then it was just incredibly half-assed. Everyone noticed that something was up, but no one said a word. They all knew how moody Mike could be, so that was mostly why they didn’t bother asking about the whole strange situation.

As for Micky, the drummer felt important to be holding such a tightly kept secret. True, he did have a big mouth at times, but he was still good at keeping secrets. Besides, Peter was just someone that he would’ve found hard to betray so easily. Now, did he care about Peter’s man crush on Mike? Not really, no. At least, not in the sense that he might’ve cared that Peter was crushing on a man at all. It was nothing new, considering the type of adventurous person Peter was.

However, Micky did care in the sense that he felt responsible to help his buddy out of his current situation. He didn’t like seeing Peter struggle like this, and since he had had information bestowed upon him that nobody else had heard yet, he felt he needed to use it to the best of his ability. Needless to say, he was planning to investigate, just like he had said he would.

The one thing Micky noticed about Mike was that at the end of the day, in the “other” studio, he always slipped away to the break room at the same exact time everyday. Or at least, he had been for the past few weeks. Maybe Mike just had a routine he liked to stick to, or maybe it was something much more than that. Either way, Micky was going to find out.

Not too long before it was time for Mike to head to the break room, a conflict began to make itself evident. The four Monkees were standing around one microphone, recording backup vocals for an untitled song, and it was already awkward enough with Mike and Peter standing directly across from each other. They were clearly avoiding each other’s gazes, and whenever their eyes just happened to meet, they would both immediately look away. The air was tense, and as a result, it didn’t take much to set Mike off.

“God dammit, Peter!” he suddenly shouted between takes. “Are you ever gonna get this right?”

Peter looked stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly as he tried to think of a response. “I-I’m trying, Michael—”

“Yeah, well ya ain’t tryin' hard enough.”

Davy was quick to jump in. “Come on, Mike, it’s been a long day for all of us.”

“Exactly! And ya don’t see the rest of us fumblin' over every other God damn word!” The Texan rebutted.

“Well maybe it’s just because these lyrics are complete shit!” Peter suddenly snapped, knowing full well that Mike had written them.

The room fell silent, and Mike narrowed his eyes threateningly at Peter. That seemed like all he could do, however, as he opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again. It felt like hours that the four of them stood there, until Mike finally gave up, giving a frustrated sigh.

“Fuck this,” he said, shaking his head as he turned to walk away. Nobody tried to stop him, knowing that it would be unwise to try. However, Micky realized that Mike was going right for the break room, and he quickly thought up an excuse to follow.

“I, uh, I gotta use the bathroom,” he said, not saying another word as he quickly walked away down the hallway that Mike had just taken. As he approached the break room, he noticed that the door was slightly open, and peeked inside to get a look.

Near the coffee machine stood Mike, who was pouring himself a cup of the hot beverage. A few feet away, stood a young man who must’ve been the same age as him. Micky recognized him as one of the rookie studio engineers. Greg was his name, and Micky figured they just happened to be in the same room together because they both wanted coffee. That was, until Greg spoke.

“You’re a little early,” he said, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “Couldn’t wait long enough, could you?”

Mike, who didn’t seem at all in the mood to play games, just rolled his eyes. “Some shit went down with the group. I hadda' get away from it all.”

“Ahh, I see,” Greg nodded thoughtfully. Micky was already confused. He'd never known that these two seemed to know each other so well. Almost like they were friends, or something.

Greg reached over to carefully pluck the cup of coffee from Mike’s hand, setting it on the counter. Then, he slid both arms around the Texan's slim waist, gently pulling him close. “Seems like you need a little something to take your mind off it all,” he said. “That’s what you came here for, isn’t it?”

Mike simply nodded, resting his head on Greg's shoulder. Greg was pretty tall, so his height matched Mike’s.

Micky was completely dumbfounded. What the hell was going on? There was a little part of him desperately clinging to the idea that these two were just really good friends, but it was clear that the situation was leading to a very different conclusion.

Mike sighed as Greg began to rub his back, nestling his head into the crook of the green eyed man's neck. “I’m just so tired of hidin' it from him…I wish I had a chance with him…”

Greg just gave Mike a little squeeze, speaking softly to him. “I know. Who knows? Maybe one day he'll come around.”

Micky couldn’t help wondering who they were talking about, and his question was soon answered.

“He won’t,” Mike sighed, frowning visibly. “Why’d I have to go and fall in love with Peter? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else?”

Greg didn’t answer that, simply continuing to comfort Mike. After a moment or two, he lifted Mike’s head up by placing two fingers underneath his chin, then leaned in a for a slow and soft kiss. The Texan gladly accepted it, his arms hanging loosely around Greg's neck. They lingered for a long time, and when they finally parted, they pressed their foreheads together.

“I just want you to fuck me so I can forget about all this…” Mike said in a voice that was unsuitably soft for the statement he had just made. Greg didn’t seem to think anything of it, however, merely chuckling.

“You know we can’t do that here.”

“We can do it at my place.”

Greg lifted his head then, quirking an eyebrow. “You mean Peter’s place. What if he comes home and finds us together?”

Mike glanced at the clock, seemingly thinking over something in head before shrugging. “We’ll just slip out the back entrance now, and that'll give us a good hour once we get to the house. I think we can finish by then.”

“Mike, we can’t just leave in the middle of everything. We'd both be in some pretty deep shit.”

Mike just shook his head. “I don’t care. I want you now. If we leave now then everyone else'll be here for another hour or so until it’s time to go home. No one can interrupt us this way.”

Greg just looked at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to accept Mike’s proposition. Finally, he sighed, nodding his head. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Quickly, Micky had to back away from the door and hide behind the nearest corner, waiting there as Greg and Mike left the break room. He had no idea what to make of what he had just witnessed. Mike wasn’t a queer, was he? He was the straightest guy Micky knew! There was no way he was really into men.

Micky realized that this might’ve had something to do with Mike getting kicked out of the house by Phyllis. No one was sure what direction their marriage was heading in, but now it was clear that Mike didn’t seem to have any plans to stick around. Forget the fact that he was sleeping with another man, things between him and Phyllis must have been completely over! Still, it didn’t necessarily make things any easier to understand.

Additionally, Micky wondered if he should tell Peter about this. If they lived together, he was bound to find out eventually. Maybe it was best just to keep it under wraps for the time being, Micky figured.

Now that he knew the coast was clear, he decided to head back to the recording booth, where he was greeted by the sight of two very impatient Monkees.

“Where the hell is Mike?” Davy demanded, approaching the drummer.

Micky began to say something, but quickly paused. He couldn’t just rat Mike out so easily, so he had to tell a fib. “I dunno,” he shrugged, playing it off casually. “I think he might’ve left. I…saw him heading for the back entrance.”

Davy rolled his eyes, and Peter gave a sigh of disgust.

“You know what? I think we should call it quits for tonight. We weren’t gonna get anything done anyway,” Peter said, going over to the coat rack to grab his jacket.

Micky, upon realizing that this meant Peter was probably about to go home, became alarmed, and jumped in front of him. “Well, wait! Where are you gonna go?”

“Where do you think, Mick? The place I usually go to after work. Home.”

Before Micky could say anything more, Peter pushed past him. He was gone within seconds, and Micky knew there was nothing left for him to do. Boy, would Peter be in for a surprise when he got home.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

This was it. This was finally it, Peter was sure of it. This was when the grace period between him and Michael was finally going to dissipate back to the way things had been before all this had happened. Before Phyllis had kicked Mike out. Before Mike had moved in with him. Before things had gotten so good damn stressful.

Before Peter had fallen in love with Mike.

Peter almost wished everything could go back to how it had once been, when Mike would be a snarky son of a bitch and Peter would just take it because he really didn’t have anything else to do. He didn’t like fighting, and he knew Mike wasn’t worth fighting. Yet, he seemed to be worth falling in love with. 

Maybe it was the fact that Mike had opened up to Peter more than usual by being around him so much. It had allowed Peter to see this gentle, almost vulnerable side of him, making Peter like him so much more. He had never imagined he would ever get to experience the delight of having Mike so relaxed and unguarded in his presence, but now that he had, he was glad. He just wished Mike was still like that. Over the course of only a few days, Mike had suddenly become so closed off to him, even going as far as to avoid him for a whole day at work. Maybe Peter had stepped too far with all those questions he had asked the other night. 

Anyway, it didn’t matter much tonight. He just wanted to go home, smoke a joint, and get some sleep. He was planning to do exactly that as he walked up to the front door of his house, where he pulled out his keys to unlock the door. However, he found that it was already open, and raised an eyebrow. He must’ve forgotten to lock it earlier, he figured. 

He just shrugged it off, proceeding to open the door and step inside. He kicked off his shoes, looking around and seeing that Mike was nowhere nearby. If he was in the house, then he must’ve been in his room, which was good. Peter wasn’t in any mood to talk to him.

First thing was first, Peter went upstairs. He wanted to get out of these clothes and change into something comfortable. He preferred to smoke weed while completely naked, but given the fact that Mike could’ve been home, he was going to opt for cozy pajamas. As he made his way up the staircase, a rather curious noise began to make itself evident. Actually, a series of noises. When he reached the top of the stairs, he recognized what sounded like soft, almost feminine whines and moans, accompanied with a deep, masculine murmur and a squeaking bed. It almost sounded like a man and a woman—

Peter looked to his left and saw that the light in Mike’s room was on, and his blood began to boil. So he thought he could just walk out of rehearsal to go home and fuck his girlfriend, did he? He thought this was more important, that it couldn’t wait? Who the hell did he think he was? 

Peter wasn’t even thinking as he stormed down the hallway towards Mike’s bedroom. He wasn’t considering the consequences of catching his friend in bed with a chick. He was overcome by fury, and nothing was going to stop him. Finally, he came to the doorway of the guest bedroom, prepared to shout, but was stopped completely when he saw just who was in Mike’s bed. 

It was Greg, from the studio…on top of Mike. And they were completely naked. And Greg's hips were moving back and forth. And Mike’s legs were pulled up over Greg's shoulders. And those feminine whines and moans were coming from Mike. And they were fucking, no doubt about it. 

It was all so overwhelming, Peter’s brain could hardly comprehend it all. He must’ve been hallucinating, surely. There was no way that Mike – his very straight friend – was getting plowed by Greg – someone Peter wasn’t even aware Mike was this close to. He had to rub his eyes like a cliché cartoon character, just to make sure he was actually seeing this. 

One last thought ran through his head in a very soft, pathetic voice before he actually spoke. 

Why Greg, and not me?

Finally, Peter’s mouth opened. “G-Greg?”

The green eyed man's head shot up upon hearing Peter’s voice. “Shit!” he exclaimed, rolling off of Mike and falling onto the mattress beside him.

The Texan had a similar reaction as he shouted, “Peter!” and scrambled to pull the covers up over his body. 

Peter was no idea what to do. He just stood there in shock, his mouth agape. 

“What are you…?” he began to ask, his brain still not fully functional. “I-I mean—”

“Jesus, what does it look like we’re doing?” Greg sighed, probably wondering why the hell Peter was just standing there and looking at them. He just couldn’t seem to look away. 

“I…” Peter found that he couldn’t get any proper words out anymore. Greg, who had probably had enough of the staring at this point, stood up to collect his clothes up from the floor. 

“Screw this,” he murmured, aggressively pulling his pants onto his long legs. “Seems like every god damn time we try to fuck, someone walks in on us.” He had his shirt on by now, and was still buttoning it up as he went to walk out the door. Before he left, however, he turned back to Mike, who seemed to be in a similar shocked state as Peter. “Next time, we go to my place.” And with that, he was gone. 

This left Peter and Mike alone, both staring blankly at random spots in the room. Neither said a word, neither moved an inch. They were frozen from utter shock. 

Finally, Peter realized that one of them had to do something, and he made his body slowly walk into the bedroom. Mike didn’t protest, simply staying in his spot with the covers pulled up over his naked bottom half. 

“He was the girlfriend the whole time, wasn’t he?” Peter asked, his voice a bit timid and soft. 

“Yeah,” Mike nodded, speaking in a similar manner. He still didn’t look Peter in the eye, beginning to fiddle with the corner of a bedsheet. 

Peter came to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the wall opposite of himself. “And that’s why you were so defensive whenever I asked questions about her…because she was actually a he, and you…you must’ve been afraid I would find out somehow…”

Again, Mike nodded. “Yeah…”

There was silence again, until Peter turned to face Mike, his eyes showing genuine remorse. “God, I’m sorry, Mike. If I had had any idea that this was going on, I wouldn’t have pushed you to tell me about it. I guess I just…” He wanted to say he was just jealous, but he knew he couldn’t. Just because he now knew that Mike enjoyed the company of men didn’t mean that he was into Peter. 

“It’s alright,” Mike said, now looking up at Peter. “You didn’t know. Hell, I guess I woulda' been curious too.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s no excuse. I should’ve stayed out of your business.” Now that he knew about what was going on, he really felt awful. It all made so much sense now. Mike had every right to be defensive considering his situation, and yet Peter, who was supposed to be one of the most understanding people you'd ever meet, had just continued to pester Mike in order to gain knowledge that he really had no right to have.

God, he felt like an asshole.

“Well…yeah, that is true,” Mike said, causing Peter to look at him again. Considering the Texan had just been caught in bed with another man, he really didn’t seem to bothered by the situation. Actually, he didn’t seem to be feeling much of anything. He just stared, albeit a bit blankly, at a random spot on the bed, still fiddling with the sheets. Peter had to wonder how he really felt. Nevertheless, he felt the need to reassure Mike about some things. 

“Michael,” he began, almost reaching over to touch Mike’s hand but deciding it wasn’t the best idea in that moment. “Michael, I want you to know…this doesn’t make me see you any differently. I mean, look at me—” He gave a small chuckle. “—I’m all over the place. You know I’ve been with men before.”

“S’not that simple,” Mike shook his head, and for a moment Peter wondered if this was a sign that Mike was finally going to open up to him. When he didn’t continue, however, Peter began to have his doubts. 

“Well, why not?”

Mike didn’t answer at first, but eventually shook his head again. “S’just not.”

“And I want to know why. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of this around me. You know I won’t judge—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mike suddenly snapped, now clutching the bedsheets in his hands. “What you think about me doesn’t matter! Either way, somethin's gonna slip, and everything is gonna be ruined! I can’t enjoy one god damn thing without someone tryin' to pry it away from me!” He then seemed to relax, his initial burst of anger having passed. But before Peter could speak, he continued. “What you saw me doin' a few minutes ago…it ain’t normal. At least, not to other people. Doin' that kinda stuff can get ya killed in some places! And my poor mother, sweet Jesus…if she ever found out what her only son likes to do with other guys, I don’t even wanna know what’d happen! I just…I want privacy, okay?”

“Of course,” Peter immediately replied, not wanting Mike to think that his privacy wasn’t respected, even if Peter hadn’t exactly made that clear. “Listen, I promise I won’t let a word slip about this, alright? Of all things, I don’t gossip, especially not about my friends. You know that.”

Mike just sighed. “I know. It’s just hard every time someone has to find out this way.” 

“This way? You mean other people have walked in on you?”

Mike nodded.

“Who?” Peter inquired.

Mike didn’t say a word, instead lifting his head to look at Peter with sad, soft eyes that revealed everything. Somehow, Peter just knew.

“No…” he almost gasped. “You can’t be serious. That’s why you were kicked out?”

Again, a nod. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “Phyllis was supposed to be out visiting a friend that night, so I brought Greg over. We ended up in the bedroom pretty quick and got right down to business. Of course, Phyllis came back early and…she saw me and Greg just like you did…and I heard a scream and that was when I knew I was in deep shit. She told me she wanted me out of the house, and I realized that I deserved it, so I listened without even arguing…” His head then fell into his hands. “God, she must hate me…imagine seeing your husband in bed with another guy, and in your own bed, too. Jesus Christ…”

Peter just watched him, a slight frown on his face. He could tell this was hard for Mike to deal with, and didn’t say anything for a moment just to let what had been said settle in their minds. 

“So, you and Greg…” he eventually asked, clearly hesitant. “Are you together?”

“No. Well, not really.” 

“Is it just a physical thing, then?” 

“Pretty much. I guess I’ve had a hard time dealing with what happened with Phyllis, and Greg really gets what I like. He knows this isn’t a relationship, anyway. Tells me he's ready to drop it whenever I’m ready.”

Well, the guy was understanding, Peter gave him that much. In a way, Peter felt grateful for what Greg had been doing. It seemed he really cared for Mike judging by what the Texan was saying, and was…providing comfort sex, he supposed. Still, Peter couldn’t help feeling jealous. Why couldn’t he have been the one to be giving Mike comfort?

Peter knew now wasn’t the time for thoughts like those, and quickly pushed them away. 

“I should probably mention,” Mike continued, getting Peter’s attention again, “that when I came home high as a kite, I wasn’t drugged by anyone. I know you were worried, but me and Greg both took way too much of…well, I’m still not sure what it was. Anyway, it wasn’t like he drugged me or took advantage of me, and I wanna clear that up. And all these marks—” He gestured to all the little hickeys across the front of his torso. “—I asked for them, alright? So no more questions on those, either.” 

Peter was just surprised Mike was saying this at all. Really, he hadn’t expected Mike to say any of the things he had already said. He guessed that Mike just needed to tell someone about this, as a way to get it all off his chest. Peter might’ve done the same in this situation. 

“Well,” Peter said. “Thank you for telling me. You're right, I have been worried. I mean, it was scary seeing you like that. I just never imagined you would ever put yourself in such a compromising position, being the careful and private guy you are."

"Well how careful am I really if I was dumb enough to bring Greg back here?" Mike was attempting to make a joke, which Peter hadn't expected. Nonetheless, he couldn't help smiling.

"Not very, I guess," he chuckled. "But still private. You really had me fooled about this whole thing for a while!" 

Mike just shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back against the headboard. He seemed to be relaxing, maybe even letting his guard down, and Peter could hardly believe he was getting this far. He couldn't let this moment go. He had to keep the conversation going. 

Now that he could see Mike was acting a lot less uptight, he decided to ask a rather bold question. Well, he tried to, at least. "So does this mean you're…well, you know, since you like men, I guess…"

"A queer?" Mike asked, and Peter winced. He didn't like that word. "No. Yes. Well— maybe. I mean, I like men. I like doing things with 'em. But I like women too. Kinda like you, I guess."

A smile tugged at Peter's lips. "So you're bisexual. That's the word for it." 

"Bisexual…" Mike seemed to think about the word for a moment before shrugging again and nodding. "Hell, I guess so." What he said next really took Peter by surprise. "Well if you're bisexual, and I'm bisexual, then we must be a perfect match." 

Peter's eyes widened, and Mike grinned. Was he joking? Judging by the look on his face, he must've been, but the way he looked intently at Peter made the blond think differently than what was supposed to make sense. 

"I…don't think that's how it works…" 

"Why not?" Mike chuckled. What the hell was he doing? He was acting so unlike himself, and it had Peter at a near loss for words. It was like being naked with all his secrets revealed turned him into a much more relaxed and open person. It was kind of freaking Peter out. 

"I mean, just because two people are straight doesn't make them a perfect match."

Mike just scoffed. "It does in Hollywood." 

Peter couldn't resist giggling at this, nodding in response. "Alright, you got me there." They both had a light and refreshing laugh, and afterwards Peter gestured to the sheet still covering Mike's lower half. "You're still naked, you know."

"So?"

"…so aren't you going to get dressed?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

Peter laughed to himself and shook his head, standing up and heading for the door. "I'll head downstairs and get some dinner ready in the meantime."

"Right on. See ya in a few." 

Peter just smiled, closing the door behind him and going downstairs to do just as he had promised. 

~*~

Things from that point on were fantastic. The tension between Mike and Peter was all but gone, and everyone noticed. Micky seemed especially happy about it, although when he has first seen them happily conversing and laughing together again, he had seemed very confused. Peter wasn't sure why; it was almost as if Micky knew something that he wasn't revealing. Instead of dwelling on it, however, Peter just decided to let it go. Things were going far too well for him to have risked doing anything to screw it all up. 

Not only were things at work going well, but so were things at home. Mike still hadn't found another place to say, with Peter found odd, but he didn't question it. He was enjoying Mike's company, and quite honestly didn't want him to leave. The best thing about their friendship having been restored was that things between them were even getting a bit…flirty. At least, they seemed to be, and both men were hardly shy about it. They would both let their gazes openly linger on one another, and when one of them would notice, the other would just smile, stare for a bit longer, then look away. They were much more touchy-feely nowadays too, putting their arms around each other in a way that seemed friendly but was really much more, or even playfully ruffling each other's hair when they felt like it. 

It was obvious that they were both enjoying their sudden closeness. Peter knew he definitely was. All the touching and flirty remarks made his thoughts run wild at night when he was all alone, and instead of being left wishing and wanting Mike, he always ended up thinking, 'soon.' It only seemed like a matter of time before they finally stopped beating around the bush. Greg was out of the picture by now, too. Peter was glad for that. Greg was a good guy and all, but Peter felt like he couldn't truly have Mike all to himself with that guy just waiting for his next chance to screw the dark haired Texan. 

Instead of having to daydream about Mike nowadays, Peter could just stare at him instead, which he was currently doing on the backyard patio. Mike was in a pair of swim trunks and an open button down shirt, and Peter was dressed similarly, watching as the Texan used the skimmer to get the leaves out of the pool. It was a still and sunny day, making it easy for Peter to admire Mike's body. He had perfectly long legs that were dusted with dark hair, which led up to his firm, round ass that was shown everytime he bent over and caused his shirt to ride up. His chest had a large patch of dark hair between his pectorals, which weren't very defined but were still masculine and sexy. He did have strong arms, however, and Peter could've just imagined himself leaving a trail of soft kisses along them. Mike really was so attractive, although Peter could tell he didn't always think so. Peter would've loved to show Mike how beautiful he was.

"See somethin' you like?"

Peter was taken away from his thoughts when he heard Mike speak, and he saw the Texan smirking knowingly at him. Of course, Peter decided to play along. 

"I see a few things I like," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his long chair by the poolside. "But they're all attached to the same thing, if you were looking for a more specific answer."

Mike propped the skimmer up against the side of the house and made his way over to Peter, standing before him with one hand on his tilted hip. "Stand up."

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

That smirk hadn't left Mike's face, and he gave an upwards nod as a gesture for Peter to get up. "Go 'head, just do it." 

Curious as to what Mike was up to, Peter did as he was asked, now standing in front of the Texan with an almost challenging look in his eyes. "Alright. What now?" 

"Sit down." 

Peter let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?'

Mike was giggling now, that wonderful sparkle shimmering in his brown eyes. "Well it's about time someone was a pain in someone else's ass around here!"

Whether it was meant to be a flirty remark or not, Peter wasn't entirely sure. Then again, he couldn't have thought of anything else it could've been, especially considering the way things had been going between him and Mike. 

Their laughter subsided in what might've been a sudden and awkward manner, but neither seemed to care as they simply grinned at each other, silently daring the other to make a move. Peter decided it had to be himself. 

"Oh it is, is it?" He stepped closer, sliding his hands onto Mike's hips to test the waters. When the taller man didn't protest, Peter allowed his own arms to loosely wrap themselves around Mike's waist.

"Oh, sure," Mike said with a playful tone in his voice, bringing his arms up to wrap them around Peter's neck. "As a matter of fact, I've been waitin' for you to be a pain in my ass for a while now."

"Is that a fact?"

"I just said, 'as a matter of fact.' So, yeah."

They were so close now, with only a few inches of space between themselves. Peter decided to close that space by tightening his hold on Mike, causing their bodies to press together in the most delightful way. This was it, this was the moment he had been waiting for — the moment when he and Mike would stop pussyfooting around what they both knew they wanted. 

"Okay, wise guy," Peter teased, seeming nonchalant despite the fact that his heart was racing from being this close to Mike. "Then why don't you let me become a pain in your ass right now?"

Mike leaned in closer, his voice lowering as his lips hovered a mere inch away from Peter's. "What, you're not even gonna take me to dinner first?"

They were so close to kissing, and Peter's own voice was a low, soft rumble as he said, "Why bother with dinner when I've already got dessert right here?" 

"Skipping dinner for dessert? Naughty boy…"

"Mm, stop talking…" With this, Peter closed the gap between their lips, and they were kissing. They were really kissing, just like Peter had fantasized about so many times before. Mike's lips were soft, especially that plump lower lip that had caught Peter's eye more than a few times. He tasted wonderful, like something sweet that Peter couldn't quite describe, and the way Mike seemed to melt into the kiss had Peter squeezing him tighter. 

Neither man bothered breaking the kiss to say anything, eventually ending up on the lounge chair Peter had previously been occupying. Mike was now laying on top of Peter, kissing him deeply and languidly. The sun warmed their bodies, as well as their own combined lazy arousal. Despite having just talked about Peter becoming "a pain" in Mike's ass, they weren't in any rush. As much as Peter would've loved to fuck on this chair, they had all the time in the world to kiss and feel each other's bodies, just like they had both wanted to for what felt like forever. 

Peter's hands were all over Mike, running down his back, over his ass and the backs of his thighs. Each time his hands grazed the sensitive skin on the backs of Mike's thighs, the Texan let out an appreciative hum that eventually became a soft moan as his arousal grew. Nonetheless, Peter's hands always seemed to find themselves back on Mike's ass, squeezing and kneading in slow circles. He really had an amazing ass for such a skinny guy, and Peter had been waiting to get his hands on it for weeks. 

"I KNEW IT!"

Both men jolted from shock as they heard someone shouting from their right. They turned their heads in unison, and both were greeted by Micky, standing on the patio with an accusatory finger pointed at them. Neither had time to question why he was here, or how he was here, before he started ranting. 

"I knew as soon as you two stopped ignoring each other that something was going on! It was so obvious just by the way you looked at each other! It's like everytime your glances even meet, you're mentally fucking one another or something!" He was speaking so fast that Peter could hardly even understand him, and frankly, he wasn't sure whether Micky was upset or excited or a little bit of both. Maybe it was neither?

"Mick, what are you—?"

"And I had to hold back from telling anyone because I didn't wanna be a shitty friend, but it's SO. HARD."

Mike and Peter was sitting up by now, although both were crossing their legs in an attempt to cover their obvious erections. Micky didn't seem to notice. 

"Well…" Peter said once Micky was finally done shouting like a madman. "Thanks for keeping it a secret. I knew I could trust you."

This seemed to pacify Micky, who allowed his shoulders relax as he let out a sigh. "That's what I wanted to hear. You're welcome." 

Peter gave a nod, and no one said anything for a moment before Micky spoke up again, looking over at Mike. 

"So…you and Greg aren't a thing?" 

First Mike's eyes widened, then they narrowed as he nearly growled, "you knew about me n' Greg?"

Micky, who apparently sensed that he was close to setting loose a Savage Texas beast, quickly backtracked. "Nobody told me about it! I just…y'know…" 

"You just what, Mick?"

"Well, I…saw you kissing in the break room once." 

This certainly didn't help to soothe the beast, as Mike quickly jumped up with clenched fists. "And you watched?!"

"No!" Micky cowered immediately, flinching as Mike shouted. "I-I mean, not really! I was just surprised, is all! I couldn't look away!"

"Did you even try?!"

Peter quickly stood up next to Mike and placed two hands on his shoulders, gently kneading. "Hey, hey," he said in a calming voice. "He hasn't told anyone. No harm's been done." 

"He invaded my privacy!" Mike was quick to exclaim, but Peter only wrapped both arms around him from behind. Truthfully, this was just to keep him in place in case he actually snapped and decided to attack Micky or something. 

"C'mon, Mike, he didn't mean to. Right Mick?" 

Micky, who was still looking fearful for his own life, frantically nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah, of course! I just happened to see it as I passed by 'cause the door was open. Honest!" Even if that wasn't completely true, Mike seemed to buy it, letting out a sigh as he relaxed a bit in Peter's arms. 

"Just get outta here. We'll talk about it later." 

That was the best Mike was going to give him, was letting him loose without tearing him to shreds, so Micky took it. 

"That's cool. I'll see ya 'round, Pete." 

With this, he left, and Peter still stood with Mike in his arms. The Texan turned around and looped his arms around Peter's neck. 

"So how did he get in here?"

Peter shrugged. "Dunno. I must've left the door unlocked. He's done that before when I haven't answered the door for whatever reason."

Mike just sighed, nestling his head in the crook of Peter's neck and speaking in a slightly muffled voice, "He needs to learn to mind his own damn business."

Peter could tell Mike was still a bit pissed off, although it probably wasn't due to any particular reason anymore. He was most likely just pissed off in general. Still, Peter felt the need to help out. He tilted his head down a bit so his lips were pressed against Mike's ear, whispering in a low tone, "Why don't we forget about Micky and go upstairs to the bedroom? I'd still love to be a pain in your ass…"

Mike lifted his head to look at Peter, grinning softly. "Alright. Let's go."


End file.
